Читать книгу Love At Christmas, Actually - Jenny Oliver, A. L. Michael - Страница 15

Chapter Seven

The holiday was becoming decidedly long. Megan tried to think of what they did at home, why it seemed to be taking ages for Christmas to arrive, for them to get it over and get back to their lives. At home they’d be fussing about with all of Anna’s plans for dinner. Occasionally that meant Megan figuring out how to cook the turkey, as she had one disastrous year when Skye was five, and almost burning the house down. Since then she’d stopped complaining when Anna spent a fortune on caterers for her holiday bash. Most of the time it was all about decorations. ‘More! More, darling, we’re going for spellbinding here!’ she’d say, champagne glass in hand whilst Megan and Skye were halfway up a ladder trying to hang more diamante icicles from the ceiling.

One year she bought this huge frosted chandelier to hang in the foyer, the first thing you noticed when you walked it. It even outshone the tree. She had rented it for the season, but when January came she declared she couldn’t bear to let the sparkle leave, and paid a shameful amount to keep it up there. As far as Megan knew, Anna had never been particularly rich herself, though her acting career had been successful. But her husband, Richard, who Megan had no recollection of, beyond a couple of pictures when she was a baby, had made money and invested wisely. Anna was a strange one. Spending vast amounts on extravagant champagne, but having a lodger like Jeremy. Buying a chandelier, but using coupons when she found them in the paper. ‘Nothing lasts forever, darlings,’ she said, waving the coupons about, ‘might as well save on the stuff that doesn’t matter, and spend on the stuff that does.’

Megan was curled up in the living room with a book, Skye leaning into her side, also reading. She stroked Skye’s hair gently, letting the smell of cinnamon, and the sound of Minnie’s snores as she lay by the fire, engulf her. It was comfortable. They weren’t bored, exactly, but it wasn’t home, and it wasn’t interesting enough to be a holiday.

The doorbell rang and Skye jumped up immediately, eager to do something.

‘I’ll get it!’ she yelled, running to the front door. Megan followed slowly, sure it must be Matty, or more carol singers.

They pulled open the door, and there was Lucas, carrying a large, messily wrapped present.

‘Hi!’ he waved, ‘I just wanted to drop this off for Skye.’

‘For me?’ Her eyes widened at the mystery gift.

‘Yeah, it’s yours. I’ve been looking after it for a while,’ he shrugged, looking at Megan, and suddenly she knew what it was. Her eyes watered and she smiled at him, grateful.

‘Come in for a coffee?’ she asked him, holding the door open wide. Skye looked between the two of them, wondering why her mother was so tearful around this guy all the time. He hadn’t done anything bad, as far as she could tell. And he’d bought her a present.

Lucas nodded and walked in, laying the box on the sofa, and gesturing to Skye. She narrowed her eyes. ‘If I accept this do I have to stop calling you Trouble?’

‘Darling, you can call me anything you like. Trouble is pretty appropriate,’ Lucas shrugged. ‘Open it.’

‘Now? I thought it was a Christmas present?’ Skye looked to her mother uncertainly.

Megan nodded. ‘It’ll be good to have something to keep you occupied until Christmas, won’t it? Go ahead.’

Skye didn’t need to be told twice, launching herself at the wrapping paper.

‘This is really good of you,’ Megan said quietly to Lucas as they watched Skye tear the wrapping apart.

‘It was never mine to keep. Your parents let me keep it, or they forgot about it, I don’t know. It made me feel closer to you.’ He kept his eyes straight ahead, focused on Skye. ‘But here you are. Don’t need it any more.’

Megan wasn’t quite sure how to take that, whether it was a sign of connection, or a sign of closure. But it was a lovely thing to do.

Skye opened the rectangular cardboard box, and as she lifted the last flap, there sat Megan’s cherry red electric guitar. It shone at them in the soft lighting. It still had the leopard-print guitar strap attached, threadbare with wear, badges pinned to it. One said ‘fuck the police’ and Megan blinked, going over to remove it before Skye saw it.

‘A guitar?’ she lilted, surprised and delighted.

‘It was your mum’s,’ Lucas told her. ‘It’s only right that you should have it. I could teach you some Elvis tunes sometime, if you want?’

Skye turned to look at him with such a look of adoration that Megan wasn’t sure what to do. Skye was always composed. Sure, she’d do a little happy dance here and there, she expressed her feelings. But somehow, British politeness always won out. This time that was not the case, and she launched herself at Lucas.

‘Thank you, Trouble! Thank you, thank you! It’s perfect!’ She stayed with her arms clamped around his waist, Lucas blushing and awkward, until he offered to teach her something right then.

Megan left them to it, returning with coffees and watching from across the room as Lucas Bright taught her daughter to play guitar. He’d glance up every now and then and grin at her, and she felt her heart melt a little every time. Maybe this could have been her life if she’d stayed. Maybe she would have stayed with him, and he’d have taught Skye to play guitar, and she would have been happy. They might have had another kid, got married. Made everything simple again.

She shook the thought away like the fantasy it was, but every time she looked over, Skye so happy, and he so earnest as he leaned in to talk to her daughter, her chest hurt a little more.

A couple of hours later, when Skye’s fingertips were covered in red lines, but she’d performed a fair rendition of the first few bars from ‘Hound Dog’, they decided to call it a day. Lucas and Skye approached her together after she finished clapping, each taking a bow.

‘I was really sad, because this is the best gift ever, and I didn’t have a gift to give to Trouble,’ Skye said, overtly innocent, eyes to the ceiling, and Megan thought uh oh here comes a scheme. ‘So I thought because I didn’t have a present, I could give him you.’

My child, the pimp. Cheers kid, Megan thought.

‘Sorry, what?’

‘I would give him the gift of…’ She turned to Lucas, who mouthed something to her. ‘…the gift of your company,’ she said triumphantly. ‘Tonight. For dinner. Grandma wanted me to make our own pizza together. And you don’t like pizza, so you can go with Trouble.’

‘Hey, I like pizza!’ Megan argued. ‘And if you owe Lucas a present, why am I going to dinner? Shouldn’t you be going to dinner?’

Skye moved in closer, and put her hand up to whisper in her mother’s ear. ‘He said the best Christmas present he could have would be to spend time with you.’

Megan looked over at him and raised her eyebrows. ‘Way to manipulate my child, Bright.’

He held his hands up in a ‘who, me?’ gesture.

‘Mum,’ Skye grabbed her hand, ‘this will be good. Promise.’

She didn’t know how her child had this way of saying things like she was a fortune teller, but Megan always believed her.

‘Okay, okay. Let me go get changed.’ She stood up.

‘You don’t have to,’ Lucas said, smirking as he took in her current outfit of oversized jumper and leggings with reindeer on them.

‘Well, it would serve you right after getting my child to pimp me out to pay her debts. Sadly, I have too much pride to be seen around here in these clothes.’

‘Lucky me,’ Lucas said and stuck his tongue out, his eyes following her as she ran up the stairs.

‘What does pimping out mean?’ Skye asked, dragging his attention back.

‘It’s when you decorate a car really outlandishly,’ Lucas said quickly. ‘So…excited about Christmas?’

Skye tilted her head to the side, eyebrows raised. She knew when adults were lying, but she let it go, with more important things to cover. ‘You’re not going to cause trouble, are you? Because I like coming back here, and having a family. And I don’t want us to never come back again.’

Lucas held out his pinky finger to link with hers. ‘Promise, kid. No trouble, only making amends.’ He paused, seeing her confused look. ‘Making it up to your mum.’

‘What do you have to make up for?’

He sighed, his light eyes looking up to the ceiling. ‘I have no idea. But your mum was my best friend in the whole world. And she’s been gone a really long time. I want to make sure she doesn’t leave again. At least without saying goodbye.’

He sat back on the sofa, and Skye moved over to sit next to him, staring at the floor.

‘I asked Mum if you were my dad. She said you weren’t.’ Skye looked at him. ‘Is that true?’

‘Apparently so, kid,’ Lucas shrugged.

‘I wouldn’t mind if you were,’ Skye said quietly, tapping her fingertips together as she stared into the distance.

‘And I would be honoured to have a daughter like you.’ He put an arm around her shoulder. ‘But we get to be friends, right? Really great friends.’

‘Will you teach me some more guitar before I go home?’

‘I’ll have you performing on a stage before you go home, just you wait!’ Lucas nudged her and she laughed, until they both saw Megan coming down the stairs. Skye grinned at Lucas. Megan’s brown hair glowed in the firelight of the living room, and she had a black fitted dress with grey tights with her knee-high black boots. In her ears, novelty Christmas earrings twinkled, little silver stars with tinsel streamers. She looked radiant. Skye thought she’d never seen her mum look so…alive before. Like she’d been walking around in watercolours and now suddenly she was vibrant oil pastels in thick, bright lines.

‘Ready to go?’ she asked Lucas, who stood up and nodded wordlessly with an open-mouthed smile.

‘You look lovely, Mum!’ Skye said, hugging her.

‘Seconded,’ Lucas added.

‘Thanks.’ She shot Lucas a smile, before returning her focus to Skye. ‘So what’s the plan tonight?’

‘Me and Grandma make pizza, and I’m playing chess with Granddad, then we’re going to watch a film and I will be in bed before ten,’ Skye nodded, halo in place.

‘Ten? ’ Megan raised an eyebrow.

‘That’s what Grandma said!’

‘Hmm, well me and your Grandma are going to have words then,’ Megan half-teased, but really, wasn’t that what this whole thing had been about? After telling her mother she was going out for dinner, and might be home late, she kissed Skye goodnight, and they set out.

She stood in her driveway and looked at his car.

‘You are kidding.’

The same little red Micra sat before her, sad and worn, and yet somehow, infinitely charming.

‘You still drive this heap of crap? You’re a teacher! Do they even let you onto school grounds with this death trap?’ she exclaimed, climbing into the passenger seat, looking at everything as if for the first time.

‘You still have a tape deck?!’

‘I have an iPod adaptor too, madam.’ He stuck out his tongue as the car wheezed into first gear. ‘And I do actually have a grown-up car sitting on my driveway. I hadn’t sold this yet and thought you’d enjoy the trip down memory lane.’

She shuffled in her seat and looked at him. ‘Some parts of it.’

‘Only fun, I promise.’

He looked at the road, carefully considering the country lanes, and she was suddenly back in those summers where she’d put her feet up on the dash, dozing behind her sunglasses as he’d driven them around, no reason, just for something to do. Music played loud, bag of crisps and cans of coke in the back seat, until they found some deserted space to sit with the doors open, and look out at the greenery, read a book or nap. Later, once they’d become a couple, those drives had a more specific purpose.

She looked at Lucas, trying to find the exact changes of age. His hair was shorter, his face softer somehow, the stubble more fitting for a grown man than a teenager who could never seem to even it out. He was painfully beautiful, the pouting lips still capable of pouting, even now whilst he was softly humming along to the radio. She wondered how she looked to him now, whether she’d matured into the woman he’d expected, or whether she looked the same. Or worse, she was some aged disappointment, simply a mother and nothing more. Not that it mattered. They were being friendly. That was it.

‘Where are we going for dinner?’

‘Surprise!’ He sent a smile her way.

‘I don’t think anything about this place can surprise me,’ she shrugged, leaning back in the chair. ‘Well, except for the fact that you’re here. And Estelle’s here.’

‘We didn’t all need to make it in the Big Bad City. Besides, didn’t you see we have a Subway now? We’re moving into the twenty-first century, one sandwich shop at a time.’

‘I have missed it, a little,’ she said thoughtfully, looking at the tall pines that lined the road, the barest sprinkling of snow on their top branches. It was a beautiful place to live. But somehow, it just held shame and regret. Like she was stepping back into being that person. The Megan who had so much promise, and then was gone. She straightened her back a little. She wasn’t that person. She wasn’t an angel or a devil. She was just her, doing her best.

Lucas pulled the car into his driveway, little fairy lights around the doorframe.

‘Are we stopping for something?’

‘No…I wanted to make you dinner,’ Lucas shrugged, jumping out of the car and running round to open her door for her.

She looked at him in confusion. ‘Why did you do that?’

‘Being a gentleman,’ he frowned, closing the door behind her, and leading the way to the house, hand resting on the small of her back.

‘And you’re going to cook? You think I trust you after the macaroni cheese incident of 2001?’

‘I can cook!’

‘That’s what you said then, too!’ Megan laughed, putting a hand on his arm. ‘Sorry Luke, thank you for wanting to cook me dinner.’ She paused. ‘And if you give me food poisoning before Christmas, I’m never coming back again.’

He raised his eyebrows as they walked into his house, flicking the lights on. ‘sSo you were planning on visiting a bit more then?’

‘There are some things worth sticking around for, I think,’ she said, staring intently at the objects in the room, flicking from the guitars to the massive vases on the floor.

He smiled to himself, and went to the kitchen. ‘Wine?’

‘Ooh, yes please!’ She hovered in the living room. ‘Do you need me to do anything?’

‘Nope, you make yourself comfortable. Fizzy okay?’ He pulled a bottle of Prosecco from the fridge, holding it up.

‘That is never a question you need to ask,’ she grinned, coming over to the kitchen area, wincing as he expertly twisted the bottle, and the cork popped. He poured into two champagne flutes and handed her one.

‘Cheers,’ he grinned.

‘Cheers.’ They clinked glasses and she sipped delicately. ‘I can’t believe you have proper champagne glasses! What bachelor knows to have different types of glassware?’

‘They’re only from IKEA,’ Lucas shrugged.

‘But…you’re a grown-up now. I don’t even have my own cutlery. We just live at Anna’s, using her stuff.’ Megan frowned. ‘I really should have thought about creating my own identity by this point.’

‘Are you thinking of moving out, getting your own place?’ Lucas asked as he turned on the oven and got out the chopping board, washing his hands. She was shocked by how at home he was in the kitchen.

‘Never really thought about it. We could, Anna will only accept a minuscule amount of rent, as much as I argue, so we have the savings.’ She sipped her wine. ‘But we love being there. I love that I have a friend, that we have a family. I didn’t want it to just be me and Skye. I was willing to do it, but kids need family. She’s going to need someone to moan about me to when she reaches her teens.’

‘Very true.’ Lucas smiled up at her whilst she perched on a bar stool across the counter from him, and she felt her heart chirrup.

‘You ever think about leaving?’ she asked innocently, trying not to return to those accusations she’d made the other night, that he’d thrown away his life.

‘All the time,’ he shrugged, ‘but also, I like it here. I have this place, I have my routine. I like my work. I have my avid fans waiting at the Nag’s Head for me every week…what’s not to love?’

‘You want a family someday?’ Why were these questions so personal? She and Lucas would have talked about stuff like this all the time when they were kids. What they wanted to do, how they wanted to live. Now it felt like some sort of online dating profile, where she was assessing him for compatibility.

‘Yeah…’ He trailed off, as if there was an alternate answer coming, but said nothing.

‘Yeah?’

He took a gulp of his drink, and focused on chopping cucumber, very delicate and precise strokes. ‘The reason I came back…after I got married, we were on the road, touring, having a great time. Living the rock and roll life. And Amber, my ex-wife, she got pregnant.’ His mouth twitched into a grimace, and the knife hovered above the salad, before he began chopping again. ‘She had an abortion. Didn’t tell me til a couple of months later. Seems most of the women I know don’t think I’m father material.’

‘Lucas –’ Megan started.

‘No, it’s fine.’ He put up a hand, tried to smile but didn’t meet her eyes. ‘My old man always used to say the same. I’m not dependable, not steady. Not that the old git knew what he was talking about, he came and went so many times growing up that it was like having a drunken clown turn up on a whim.’

‘I remember,’ Megan said softly, recalling Lucas’ thirteenth birthday when his dad arrived with a kid’s tricycle, stinking of booze, and fell asleep in the back garden under the hedgerows. Lucas hadn’t said anything, pretended it hadn’t happened and got on with his party.

‘So, that’s when I came back here, got my teaching degree part time, and here I am. Bachelor pad and slightly old rock god.’

‘You still seem to have your teeny bopper fans as always,’ she smiled, thinking of the girls in the front row at the pub, looking now as they had then, enamoured and in love with the idea of Lucas Bright. She’d always been so proud to get down off the stage and know that she loved the real him, the one who could sit quietly for hours. To her, he didn’t have to be performing or singing to be loved.

‘Ah, they’re all into teenage boy bands who sound like they’ve had their bollocks chopped off. Which is fine by me. Having a bunch of fifteen-year-olds sigh at you on stage when you’re seventeen is cool. When you’re nearly thirty? Not so much.’

He got a tray out of the fridge and put it into the oven, dumped the salad into a bowl, and grabbed the bottle of wine. ‘Want to sit on the sofa for a bit? It’ll take a while.’

‘Did you plan this, Lucas Bright?’ Megan teased, noting his cheeks redden.

‘I pre-made some chicken. It’s hardly rocket science.’

‘Used to be.’

‘Well, people change,’ he said pointedly, topping up their glasses before sitting next to her, a little too close.

‘Yes, they do,’ she said quietly, reaching out a hand to his.

Megan took a deep breath. ‘I used to wish she was yours. All those nights I was so bloody angry with myself, that I’d ruined everything.’

‘You didn’t ruin anything until you ran, Angel,’ he said softly, tracing her cheek with his thumb. ‘I would have been there. I tried to be, tried to find you. No one tends to give you information when they think you drove someone away.’

She winced. ‘I’m sorry. I just…It was too much. I was ashamed and miserable and –’

‘Stubborn,’ Lucas smiled at her, knowing her still after all that time.

She traced circles on his wrist, the way she’d always used to, calming and electrifying all at once.

‘Why am I here, Luke?’ she asked quietly, eyes meeting his.

‘Because I’ve missed you.’ The hand that had stroked her cheek now rested on her neck, thumb stroking gently down her collar bone until she found it hard to breathe. She felt sure her legs were shaking.

‘I’ve missed you too,’ she whispered, edging herself closer along the sofa, leaning in just the smallest amount. It felt like a lifetime where she wasn’t sure what she was meant to do, only that her stomach was in knots, her fingers trembled and she had forgotten what it felt like to be kissed.

Lucas kissed her, soft lips meeting hers and she could taste his smile. She sighed in relief against him, pulling him closer, still holding her drink aloft as his stubble softly grazed her cheeks. It was so familiar and yet so different. She could have said she was mad about Lucas all those years ago, completely in love and attracted. But this was different, some desperate hunger was rising up within her, and she couldn’t help but let out little sighs as he pulled her closer, warm, holding her solidly, as if afraid she might run.

‘Wait,’ she breathed, and watched his nervous face as he looked at her.

‘Was that not…? Sorry –’ He started to move away and she grabbed his arm.

‘No! No, just –’ She took his drink and put both of them down on the table, then reached for him again. ‘Come back!’

‘So demanding all of a sudden, very familiar,’ he laughed against her lips, more insistent as he pulled her against him, taking their time, feeling their way into everything. Megan pulled back and kissed his neck, that spot just under his ear that had always driven him crazy. He hissed a little. ‘You remember that?’

She remembered all of it. He dropped his head, licking along her collarbone, and she shuddered. He hadn’t forgotten either. It was the strangest sensation, following the same moves as adults, as if they had even touched the surface of the things it was possible to do in bed when they were together before. It had always been simple, and whilst Megan had always been satisfied, it had been more about being as close to him as she possibly could be, stealing his warmth, feeling his weight on her, feeling safe and loved.

Now she knew that this volcano building up inside her was true desire, and she didn’t know quite what to do with it. His hands on her, even through her clothes, felt hot and overwhelming, and as she curled her legs over his on the sofa, arms around his neck, his hand tracing up her thigh, she felt like it was hard to breathe. She locked her arms tighter, opening her eyes to find him looking back at her, bright blues only inches from her face.

‘Hey beautiful,’ he smiled, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

‘Hey you.’ She felt like her face was going to crack from smiling, and yet, bizarrely, wanted to burst into tears at the same time.

‘As much as I love this, and believe me,’ he pecked her lips, ‘I love this,’ he kissed her again, ‘I kind of need to make sure I don’t burn my house down.’

Megan breathed a sigh of relief, pulling her legs up beneath her. ‘Good idea. Fire safety first.’

Stop yammering, idiot. She breathed deeply, clutching her glass of wine like a lifeline.

***

August 2003

‘Are you sure?’ Lucas asked for the fifth time, and she was starting to get irritated. It wasn’t meant to be like this. Weren’t they just meant to fall into bed in a passion, desperate for each other? Instead, they’d had the house to themselves whilst his mum was away in Wales for the weekend with her latest fella, Nigel the security guard. They’d cooked together (sure, it was only pizza, but putting it in the oven was a team effort. Plus they’d avoided garlic bread) and broken into Linda’s drinks cabinet to have a couple of vodka and lemonades to loosen them up. But it still didn’t seem special.

They lay on Lucas’ bed kissing, as they had a hundred times before, with that desire welling up, until she just wanted to be as close as she could, wrapping her legs around him as he rocked against her. But as soon as they’d taken all their clothes off, and lay naked under his blankets, she suddenly felt very foolish. It didn’t help that he kept asking if it was okay every five minutes.

She stared at the ceiling, Alice Cooper staring back at her, along with every other rock star that her boyfriend had blue-tacked to the ceiling. That probably wasn’t helping.

‘I just…I want it to be special for you,’ Lucas kept saying, softly stroking her arm as she rested her head on his chest.

‘I don’t mind,’ Megan said, yet again, wondering if everything was always so awkward, and why they had to talk about things all the time. ‘You know what you’re doing, why don’t you just take the lead, and I’ll tell you if I’m uncomfortable?’

Lucas exhaled. ‘I don’t know what I’m doing!’

‘You’ve had sex before!’

‘Yeah, but never with you!’ he said, like it was obvious.

She rested on her side so she could look at him. ‘What the hell does that mean? I’m so grotesque you’ve got to try harder?’

Lucas closed his eyes, visibly asking for patience, growling a little. ‘No, I love you, you idiot! That makes it different! I’ve never done this with someone I’ve loved before!’

Megan blinked. ‘Oh. I didn’t think that made a difference.’

‘Yeah, well it does,’ he mumbled, grumpy.

She didn’t know why that made her feel better, but she stroked a finger along his chest, slowly moving down beneath the covers. ‘Well, I guess we’ll have to just make it up as we go along then,’ she winked. After that everything seemed a lot easier.

***

‘So…that was a blast from the past,’ Lucas said as they sat at the counter on bar stools, eating their dinner, barely looking at each other.

‘Why do you always have to do that? You can never just not mention something,’ Megan sighed.

‘Well, I thought it was pretty obvious it happened, as we’re both here. You wanna sit here, pretend that didn’t happen, and then go home and be awkward?’

No, I want you to throw the plates on the floor and do me here and now, her mind betrayed her, and she twitched her mouth in irritation.

She stabbed at her salad. ‘I don’t know what happened. And I don’t know what you want me to say. One minute we’re all “I miss you” and the next we’re sticking our tongues down each other’s throats like a couple of –’

‘Teenagers,’ Lucas said pointedly, ‘that’s all we’ve ever known, Angel.’

Megan took a deep breath, and exhaled. ‘I haven’t slept with anyone else. I mean, I haven’t had a relationship, or anything, since having Skye.’

‘You haven’t had sex in eleven years?’ Lucas’ jaw dropped. ‘How? Why?’

‘Because I’m a mother! You think I’m just going to let someone into my life like that? Have my kid see me keep trying to find someone, because our family isn’t enough for me? I won’t do that.’

Lucas paused. ‘Never stopped my mum.’

‘And I knew how much that upset you. And Clare. And I didn’t want that for Skye. I don’t…I don’t do this.’

Lucas reached for her hand, gently stroking the back of it as she put down her fork. ‘It’s just me. ’

‘So we’re meant to just pick up where we left off, is that it?’ She shook her head, exasperated.

‘No, but maybe we could admit that there’s something still here. That whatever issues we had, love wasn’t really the problem.’

She nodded. ‘That’s true.’

‘The problem was your inability to trust anyone else with your shit, lean on anyone and let them help you.’

She pulled back her hand. ‘Now wait a minute –’

Lucas raised his eyebrows. ‘Was anything about that statement essentially untrue?’

‘We were going on different paths, there was no point dragging you down, I had to be responsible for my own mistakes…’ She ticked off the reasons on her fingers.

‘I’m not talking about when you got pregnant, although that’s a factor. I’m talking about wanting to break up in the first place. You couldn’t have one tie to this place. You had to have all or nothing, and it’s the same now. Denying yourself any interaction, any love or affection in ten years? You’re young, Megan.’

‘I don’t feel like it,’ she huffed, arms crossed until she realised she looked like a moody teenager, and sipped her wine snootily.

Lucas started a new offensive. ‘And what do you think Skye’s relationships are going to be like, when she’s seen her mother close herself off, never let anyone get close? You don’t think she’s going to pick up the same idea; that no one can be trusted to take you as you are?’

Megan slammed her hand down on the table. ‘That’s enough! Stop bringing my daughter into this like she’s your trump card. I don’t want her to get attached to someone who might not stick around. It’s been us against the world since forever, and she’s been fine with that.’

Lucas leaned in. ‘Then why is she asking about her dad?’

‘Because we never should have come here!’ Megan stood up. ‘And I should never have done this, it’s ridiculous. Acting like we’re kids again – we’re not! I am a grown-up with bigger responsibilities than having sex and feeling butterflies. My kid has to come first. Always. She is always going to come first, Lucas.’

Megan looked around for her coat, and pushed in her chair. ‘I’m sorry, this was a bad idea. Thank you for dinner.’

Lucas stood up and followed her across the room. ‘It wasn’t, it wasn’t a bad idea.’ He put his arms around her waist, leaning his forehead against hers, and she let him, because she was weak, and he was warm, and comforting, and still smelled just like him, that unchangeable essence that was Lucas. She closed her eyes.

‘I’m not asking to come first. I’m not asking for anything, except for you to let me in. Take a holiday from your life for a few more days. I promise when you go I won’t beg you to stay.’ His voice was a gravelly whisper, and she felt his breath against her cheek.

What did she have to lose, really? A few days with Lucas, feeling wanted and warm and alive, before she went back to that life that she’d been sleepwalking through?

‘I’ll beg you to stay now though, if necessary.’ She heard the smile in his voice and opened her eyes. His eyes had always got to her, she could stare at them for ages, that sapphire blue that seemed too bright to be real.

‘Okay,’ her voice was croaky, ‘okay.’

He pulled her close until they were completely aligned, kissing her delicately, exploring, opening her up until she was desperate for him, tugging at the thin knit jumper he had on until he pulled it over his head and chucked it across the room. She took a moment to look at him, tracing the lines of his body. He’d been slim before, a wiry frame, but this body had been toned and tuned with purpose. She traced a finger along the ‘v’ of his hipbone, unsure of why it turned her on so much.

‘A little different,’ Lucas smirked, reaching for her, holding her against his hard chest.

‘Very,’ she breathed against him, feeling him turn her around so he could unzip her dress. She paused, then pulled down the leggings and the dress, standing there in her black bra and knickers. She waited for the assessment, nervous of how he would see her adult body, no longer lithe and athletic, but curved and soft.

‘Woah.’ His eyes were focused on her chest. ‘Those are different too.’ He kissed down her neck to her breasts, licking and sucking through the thin lace fabric, until she felt she was about to pass out. The blood seemed to rush from her head, and all she was left with was a dizzying need. She growled a little as he bit her nipple gently, and pulled him closer by the belt buckle. She needed to be pushed up against him, needed his weight on her.

‘Bedroom?’ he gasped against her neck as her hand dropped lower, caressing him through his jeans. He grabbed her hand and dragged her through one of the doors next to the kitchen.

She blinked as he turned the lamp on, so the white room was illuminated in a soft golden glow. He backed her up against the bed until her knees hit, and she lay back, just looking at him. He watched her for a moment, bare-chested, a look of wonder on his face. She scanned him again, noticed the tattoos that weren’t there before, the muscles, the scars. She wanted to map out his body and know the story behind every mark. Later. For now, she just wanted him against her, inside her, desperately, in a way she’d never felt before. She had to have him.

Megan pulled his hand, dragging him down so he was on top of her, kissing him again. She could feel him against her, and reached down to undo his belt, the heavy silver buckle deliciously cool against her skin.

He was attached to her neck, biting softly, just enough to make her crazy. It had never been like this before. As she struggled with his belt his fingers grazed her hip, settling just under the waistband of her underwear. A deep intake of breath as his fingers slipped lower, teasing her, making her desperate, moving in a pattern, but never quite getting close enough.

‘Luke…’ she sighed, throwing her head back.

‘Way ahead of you.’ He kissed her cheek before getting up, shrugging out of his jeans and underwear, and going to the dresser for a condom. Megan blushed, because she hadn’t even been thinking about that, she’d been thinking about him hurrying the hell up. She watched with interest as he rolled it down carefully. They’d never really looked at each other before, she realised. Everything was under covers, touches and movements. She felt her heartbeat quicken with the realisation that it was finally happening. She was sitting on the edge of the bed as he came back, grinning the grin of a man who was about to get what he wanted. He leaned down to kiss her, and scooped her up, so she was forced to wrap her legs around his waist for balance. She felt him move against her, rocking back and forth, the thin fabric of her underwear still between them, tantalisingly close but not close enough. She squirmed and Lucas seemed to agree, standing her carefully back on the floor, and kneeling down to kiss her hipbones as he slowly pulled her underwear down. He grinned up at her, those eyes shining, and she pulled him up, pushing him onto the bed and climbing on top of him.

‘Way to take control, Angel,’ he gasped against her mouth as she reached for him, guiding him into her, painfully slowly, savouring the contact. She watched his eyes widen as she moved against him, moving her hips, slowly at first and then quicker as his fingers dug into her thighs. He gripped her harder, keeping her steady as she kept moving, that deep rhythmic pull within pushing her faster and harder against him, until her body stilled suddenly, tensing as he did, collapsing against him.

They lay there in silence for a few moments, breathing heavily, until Megan lifted up her head to look at him.

‘Definitely wasn’t like that before!’ Lucas laughed.

‘I’m starting to see the advantages of being an adult,’ Megan laughed, rolling off him and lying on the bed.

‘When I said I missed you, I don’t think I made it clear how much…’ Lucas grinned, stroking her stomach with a fingertip.

‘I really think you did,’ Megan replied, curling up on him and promptly falling asleep.